Trzy Serca
by irishileana
Summary: What happened to Ginny Weasley after Harry left her? What if she still loved him . . . but fell in love with someone else?
1. Chapter 1

A/N and Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, yada yada yada, blah blah blah, etc., don't sue . . . you get the point, yes?

Anywho, I wrote this as an entry to a Final Prophecy contest, and so it might be depressing. This will be the only author's note I write for this story (gasp).

Trzy serca. That's Polish for "three hearts". Think "Jerry Springer" for a second here. Total love triangle fiasco. Three hearts, one loving the other two, and the other two loving the one. How can you choose between someone you love and someone you, well, love?

I'm Ginny Weasley, and I never expected to have to ask that question myself. I always figured it would be one way: Harry and I, me and Harry, Ginny Potter, Mrs. Potter, the whole deal. Destiny. I've always loved him, and, finally, in my fifth year, he fell in love with me. I'd never felt that way before. Then again, I had only been eleven when it had started.

I remember it so well. I had been in my first year, the year where the Chamber of Secrets was opened. I had been going mad, following orders from a book, from Voldemort (I can say his name now). At last, the book took me into the chamber itself, draining me of my life. My last thought before blacking out was that I would die here, alone, controlled, and worthless.

But I did open my eyes once more, and there was Harry Potter standing over me. He assured me that Riddle was gone, the basilisk, too. He comforted me when I was afraid. He defended me so that I would not be punished. It was this that made me fall in love with Harry Potter.

Oh, I know I had a crush on him earlier than that. Many did. But that's different. This was real, true love that could last forever.

And then he left me, and I found Draco Malfoy.

It was really only about a year ago when everything happened. That was when Harry had told me that he couldn't be with me anymore. He had said that Voldemort would try and kill me if he found out that we were together. Really, I didn't—I don't—care about that, but I respect Harry. I guess he wanted to do what he wanted to do.

So I saw him, just a month later, at Bill and Phlegm's wedding, which was where this whole story will begin.

I stood there in my gold dress, pretty happy for the most part. I gave Harry a big smile and teased him, like I would on any other day. But I missed him. A lot.

Phlegm came down the aisle in this long, satin, pearl white dress, which was surprising, since I had expected dress robes. She looked pretty, though. Her golden hair practically shone through her veil, which was woven in little diamonds (wonder how much that cost?), and she was very graceful. In other words, she looked like a veela. I wanted to smack Ron. Sitting there, drooling at the person who was soon to become his sister-in-law! What a git.

Fred and George were looking . . . mischievous. I wasn't sure if they were planning anything, or if their faces were just stuck like that. Whatever it was, they looked like they were planning on setting off their fireworks. I found out later that they had put contents of Skiving Snackboxes in the food for the reception.

Charlie came late, saying something about a Norwegian Ridgeback on the loose, but he stood proudly at the front as Bill got himself into actually being married to that stupid Barbie.

Percy never showed. Mum was so upset about that, she must have been crying for two hours. As for Dad, he just sat there, stone-faced, like he always does when Percy comes up in conversations.

But other than Percy not being there and the fact that she disliked her son's bride, I think it was probably the happiest day of Mum's life. Through her tears, she had smiled wider than that cat from that odd muggle book, Alice of Wonderbread or whatever it was. You could just tell how proud she was.

And Dad . . . he was happy, but he was just bitter about stupid Percy. Percy really ruined it for all of us, I swear.

But anyway, it went as all weddings usually go. Phlegm's little sister, Gabrielle, was pretty nice, and she smiled shyly at me and rolled her eyes at Phlegm and Bill, which made me laugh so that Mum told me off. Bill and I Fleur /I were married in a lovely sunset. I guess we were all pretty happy.

Of course, when I saw Harry in his bottle green dress robes, I wanted him to hold me, kiss me, just one more time. That's kind of depressing when you know that's not going to happen. So, when the others used apparition to get to the reception, I said that I would walk. I needed some alone time.

"Are you sure, dear?" Mum asked worriedly. It was dark now. "It's a bit far, and this is hardly the time to be out walking alone. Perhaps Ron—" But Ron gave her a look, and she resigned, much to my surprise. "Well, be very careful. Keep your wand at the ready. And don't go looking for trouble!"

"Why would I go looking for trouble?" I inquired.

"Oh, I don't know." She sighed. I stared at her for a bit, and watched as they apparated, a few people going side-along, and were gone in the blink of an eye. Then I turned and headed on my way.

I had been walking for ten minutes or so, my hand clutched around my wand, when I was grabbed from behind and pushed into a bush.

I tried to scream, but a hand was clasped tightly around my mouth. My wand had fallen from my hand and lay uselessly on the other side of the bushes. No matter how I struggled, I couldn't escape. Even when I bit into the hand holding me and could taste the blood seeping into my mouth, still then my captor did not release me.

I thought wildly about what was going on. This seemed like an awful stupid way to die, and it couldn't have been in a more pathetic time in my life. But maybe it was meant to be. I relaxed, and a voice spoke to me (and not in my head—this was an actual voice).

"It is not wise to go roaming around by yourself after dark these days, Miss Weasley." The cold voice sneered. I knew that voice. "You may find yourself in danger."

"Let her go, Snape!" Another voice called. I knew that voice as well, and I can't tell you how surprised I was to hear him trying to help me.

Nevertheless, Snape's cold, greasy hands released me, and I fell backwards, hard into the ground.

I probably would have made my escape right about then, but unfortunately I was dizzy and black spots kind of blocked my vision.

I was still strong in mind, though, so I spat, "What do you two Death Eaters want with me?"

The owner of the second voice knelt down to me and held out his hand, which I refused to take. I had never liked him, and now, I never could. He, after all, had set out to kill Professor Dumbledore, before his accomplice finished the job. I hated him. Draco Malfoy. Taunting, teasing, sneering, cursing, hexing, jinxing, torturing, murdering Draco Malfoy.

I blinked a few times, clearing my vision. I smacked his outstretched hand out of my way and got up unsteadily by myself. But I noticed something.

Draco wasn't smirking. He wasn't laughing and hoping that, somehow, he could give me to his master so that he would not be murdered for not doing his job. He wasn't jeering at my being pushed around so easily.

Instead, he was looking at me with a lost expression. He seemed worried and anxious. He then shot a dirty look at Snape and actually asked me, "Are you okay?"

I looked straight into his eyes, which were not cold and lifeless as they usually were, but pleading, full of sincere worry and fear. And something else, something I couldn't identify. Yes, I stared straight into those ice-blue eyes and slapped him across the face.

"Get your bloody hands off of me." I ordered coldly.

A hurt expression formed on his pointed face. He took a step back, and opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him. "What do you want from me?" I demanded.

He stared at me as I glared at him. Neither of us said a word. It was starting to get really annoying, this silence, when Snape broke it.

"Answer the question, Malfoy." He had no feeling, no emotion in that voice, which really got on my nerves. I hate Snape, and always will. Is that so unorthodox?

"I want to tell you," Draco began slowly, and glanced at his former head of house. "Snape, could you give us a bit of privacy?"

That was weird. What would he need to say to me that Snape couldn't know? The two-timing prat seemed to agree.

"Anything you can say to Miss Weasley, Malfoy, you can say in front of me." Okay, so this was really getting weird. Did this mean that Snape had no idea what they were doing? Why was I here, anyway?

"Fine." Draco replied flatly. "I came here to tell you . . ." he hesitated. "To tell you that I love you."

Okay, so I gaped like a fish. Draco Malfoy, love me? Draco MALFOY?! The person who had called me a blood traitor and looked down on me for five years? Maybe even longer than that, I'm sure I'd have met him before. This had to be a joke, that's all. Or some weird, crazy way of luring me into his vast eternal . . . I mean, his evil plans.

But then I looked at Snape. His usually expressionless face (I swear, he'd be an excellent player at that muggle card game, poker) was betrayed ever so slightly by his wide eyes. He seemed as surprised as I was at this random, unexpected outburst. But he said nothing. And I said nothing. Once again, we were met with a long, uncomfortable silence. And then I looked at Malfoy and opened my mouth.

"Yeah, right." I went to jump over the bushes, but he pulled me back, Draco did. Not before I got hold of my wand, though, which I turned on him. "Let me go," I breathed. "Or I'll give you the worst case of the bat bogey hex you've ever had."

He smiled for the first time at that. "I remember . . ." but he wouldn't let go. I'm telling you, I was not finding this situation enjoyable at all.

"But Ginny," he gazed at me with pleading eyes. "You have to understand, I'm not lying to you. I really do love you. I only just realized it last year. I can't live without you."

It couldn't be true. Not Draco Malfoy, no matter what his eyes were trying to tell me. "Like you would ever go out with a 'blood traitor' like me," I spat.

He did the most remarkable thing right then. He just pulled me to him and kissed me, right then and there.

When it was over, I searched his eyes again, and I knew it was true. My heart started pounding, and my hands got all sweaty, and I realized, with despair, that I loved him, too.

I loved two men that I could never be with. How unfair is that?


	2. Chapter 2

All summer, I ached for Draco. At the same time, my heart broke every time somebody mentioned Harry. It was not a great summer. But it ended well when two tawny owls were sent to me, one with my OWL marks and the other telling me whether or not Hogwarts would be reopened this year.

I opened the letter with my marks first. They went as follows:

_Astronomy: E_

_Care of Magical Creatures: E_

_Charms: E_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: E_

_Muggle Studies: O_

_Herbology: A_

_History of Magic: P_

_Potions: E_

_Transfiguration: E_

I only failed History of Magic, and when have I ever cared about that? Dad was really proud of my Muggle Studies mark. I only took it because he wanted me to.

I then proceeded to the more important news: Hogwarts Reopening. Everybody was watching me, because Ron, Hermione, and Harry had not told them if it would or wouldn't. I slit the envelope open and slowly took the letter out. It read:

_Miss Weasley_

_Due to a series of events, you are most likely aware that there was a debate on whether or not Hogwarts would reopen this year. I, Professor McGonagall, newly instated headmistress of Hogwarts, am pleased to inform you that Hogwarts will indeed be open to those who wish to return. Parents are forewarned, however, that He Who Must Not Be Named could possibly break through the ministry's defences once more, and those students whose parents do not wish for them to go to Hogwarts shall not be forced to._

_However, to those of you coming, we shall be delighted to have you, and we hope to have a safe and happy year._

_Staff is as follows:_

_Professor McGonagall: Headmistress_

_Professor Flitwick: Master of Charms/Head of Ravenclaw/Deputy Headmaster_

_Professor Sprout: Master of Herbology/Head of Hufflepuff_

_Professor Slughorn: Master of Potions/Head of Slytherin_

_Professor Babbling: Master of Ancient Runes/Head of Gryffindor_

_Professor Weasley: Master of Transfiguration_

_Professor Sinistra: Master of Astronomy_

_Professor Hagrid: Master of Care of Magical Creatures_

_Professor Trelawney: Master of Divination for years 3, 5, and 7_

_Firenze: Master of Divination for years 4 and 6_

_Professor McWilliams: Master of Muggle Studies_

_Professor Binns: Master of History of Magic_

_Professor Vector: Master of Arithmancy_

_Madam Hooch: Master of Flying_

_The list of your required materials is enclosed. Please make sure you are prepared for the new school year._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor M. McGonagall_

"Professor Weasley?" I stared open-mouthed at the parchment. "Who's teaching?"

Mum and Dad looked taken aback. Fred snatched the letter out of my hand and read. "Blimey, it is Weasley,"

"Of course it's Weasley, you prat, I can read very well," I snapped. "My point is, which Weasley?"

I thought about it for a bit, and I know I wasn't the only one. It couldn't be Fred or George, they were far too busy with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and Fred hadn't known anything about it. Ron was off saving the world, and besides, he wasn't old enough at all. Charlie was off taking care of dragons and had always told us that he never wanted to be a teacher, and Bill was just as busy at Gringotts. Mum and Dad would have said something. I, of course, was still at school. That only left one person. But it couldn't possibly be . . .

"Percy?!" I shouted, astounded. "Since when has he wanted to teach?!"

And yet, there it was. Professor Weasley, Master of Transfiguration. PERCY?!

Now that prat of a brother would be teaching me. The perfect ending to a perfect summer. Wait, I said that wrong . . .

The day I left to take the Hogwarts Express to school was a depressing one. I had always slightly hoped that someday, some random, unexpected day, Draco would come to the Burrow and hold me the way he never could. It was a stupid fantasy, but there was always a slight hope. At Hogwarts, I was sure to never see him again. Who could ever let him return?

However, I was a bit rushed, as usual, so I didn't have time to sit and think about it. We didn't get to use the ministry cars this year, because Harry wasn't with us, so we had to call a muggle cab. Fortunately, it wasn't as cramped as usual; Fred and George had returned to one of their joke shops in a line of many, and Bill and Fleur were off being a couple, so it was just Mum, Dad and I.

I was practically pushed on the train, and I spent the next few hours locked up and upset in a quiet, lonely compartment with Luna and Neville. I couldn't help it. I missed Harry. I missed Draco. There was nothing to look forward to.

After about three hours, the door to the compartment opened, and there stood Draco Malfoy, looking pale and malnourished. Neville looked up at him and fear, whilst Luna barely glanced up from her edition of the _Quibbler_. I personally nearly fell out of my seat.

"Weasley, could I talk to you for a minute?" he sneered, and my heart dropped. Why had he turned on me? More importantly . . . why was he here?

"Fine." I replied, just as coldly, though my heart was pounding. I stepped cautiously out into the corridor, which was surprisingly empty.

"Ginny," he whispered, his tone changing at once. "Ginny, I've missed you so much, I needed to see you once again, and I'm so sorry I was harsh with you just now, but I had to keep up the charade, and—"

"Why are you here?" I interrupted. God, how I hated him. But when I looked into those grey eyes, I just . . . I don't know, I fell in love all over again.

"Because I wanted to see you again," he replied simply, and he smiled. I don't know if you've ever realized it, but he is really cute when he smiles. Not smirking, I mean. Smiling. But you probably got that.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to believe him. I just couldn't. I mean, this was Draco Malfoy, for heaven's sake! I had hated him for all these years; why should I stop now?

"How come they let you in?" I asked flatly, and I saw his face fall.

"Because," he answered slowly. "Because I've changed. I'm a different person now, and . . . well, I do want to join the good side. I think that portrait of Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore," he corrected himself. "had a lot to do with it,"

I digested that for a moment. It sounded . . . well, it sounded reasonable. But there was still one question in my mind.

"Where's Snape?" I demanded.

Those beautiful grey eyes became dull. "Dead, I guess. The Dark Lord found our hiding place, and Snape just yelled for me to save myself. I think," he lowered his eyes. "I think he really was a good person,"

I shook my head. No. Snape had murdered the greatest wizard on Earth. He was not a good man. "So is that why you came?" I hadn't even realized I was thinking it. "For protection?"

"Well . . ." he began. "Yes, that's one reason. But I told you . . . I love you," He took me into his arms and kissed me. I guess I just sort of believed him right then and there. That is actually really pathetic.

"Ginny," he whispered. "No one outside of Hogwarts can know I am here. The news can't get into the wrong hands. And it would be best if we kept our love secret."

I pulled away. "Whoever said I loved you?"

He smiled. "I just know."


	3. Chapter 3

The feast was, I think, a little bit more depressing than usual. For starters, only about fifty students had showed up this year. Unfortunately, Colin Creevey was one of them, and he would not shut up! He also started trying to get me to go on a date, which really got annoying. It's not like I didn't have enough men on my hands.

Anyway, there were about fifty students there, and only three first-years. Of course, that did make the Sorting much quicker, but it was still depressing.

At the end, Professor McGonagall stood up. I don't remember what she said, except that when she introduced Percy, I booed. Loudly. Then I got sent to the tower and was given detention. Sad, but it really saved me trouble, and, well, it did get a laugh.

The next day, I was totally exhausted, because the Gryffindors had been partying all night long. And, with a groan, I realized I had Transfiguration first period.

I grumpily stormed into the classroom. To my dismay, I was early, and the only one there yet. Percy looked up, annoyed, from his notes.

"Strayed away from the Ministry, Percy?" I asked, venom dripping out of my voice. "Or did you just get fired?"

His ears turned red, and he opened his mouth to speak, when Colin Creevey came in. I moaned.

The bell rang, signalling the start of class, and Luna came in. Percy looked around, and checked his list.

"I guess that's everyone," he said stiffly, and everything was awkward. "Well, as you know from the feast," he shot me a dirty look. "I am Professor Weasley, and I am teaching Transfiguration this year,"

"We KNOW, Percy, now get on with the lesson," Yes, this was me. Who else?

He glared at me. "Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Miss Weasley. You are to address me as "sir", "professor", or "Professor Weasley" at all times,"

I was actually a bit shocked. Git that he had become, Percy had never spoken to me like that. It was almost frightening, but I replied with, "Professor? Yeah, right. More like Biggest Prat of the Universe,"

His eyes bored into mine. "Detention, Weasley," he told me firmly. And I shut up for the rest of the period, though I was fuming. Two detentions and ten points from Gryffindor already. It wasn't a great start to the year.

After class, I stormed down the halls, on my way to Potions with Professor Slughorn, who apparently hadn't left. On my way there, however, a hand grabbed my robes and pulled me into a closet.

As a reflex, I started hitting everything in my way, before at last I heard, "Ginny! Calm down! It's me!" and I realized I was hitting Draco.

I blushed. "Sorry. Being randomly pulled into a closet is a bit frightening sometimes,"

"Right, sorry about that," he kissed me briefly, and released me. "Meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight tonight,"

"Under the eyes of teachers?" I asked, incredulously. He grinned.

"Be sneaky."

And our meetings usually went like this. He would pull me randomly in the halls, we would snog, and then we would set up a meeting for that night. It was odd, too, because teachers never caught us in these midnight meetings.

And in case you were wondering, we didn't do anything. We just kissed each other and caught up on the things we had done during the week. It was a lot like when Harry and I were together.

Speaking of which, I hadn't forgotten about him, either. I felt guilty on every meeting with Draco, and my heart ached for Harry all the time. I know others would disagree, but you can love two people at once, and I did.

September passed, with many more detentions, into October, which passed into November, which passed into December. At last, the Christmas holidays were upon us. Naturally, everyone was partying. Not that I don't like school or anything. It's just that I think Percy was purposely failing me, and school was really getting tense and depressing.

The only problem I found was that I couldn't see Draco for two whole weeks. I wasn't sure if Harry, Ron, and Hermione were coming to the Burrow for Christmas, but I hoping not. Yes, I ached for Harry. But I couldn't bear to see him and not be with him. And you can imagine how guilty I was feeling.

So on the day that I left for Hogwarts, I had gathered all of my stuff, and given a goodbye to Luna, who was going to spend her summer looking for "exotic creatures" which probably didn't exist with her dad, Neville, who would be going home and doing something, Colin Creevey, who had been sticking to me like a leech since the beginning of the year and would NOT go away, and, lastly, Draco. He caught me on my way to Percy's office (it was the main link between Hogwarts and the homes of the students and teachers, I wasn't going to say goodbye or anything), pulling me as usual into a random closet. But this time, my guilt took over, and I pushed him away, much to his confusion. I heard him call after me, but I didn't look back.

As I pushed hurriedly into Percy's office, he looked up. A large, worn suitcase lay beside his desk.

"Well, Ginny," he muttered stiffly. "Shall we go, then?"

I stared.

"What are you . . .?" I stuttered. He sighed.

"We're going home, and I'm coming too,"

I started spluttering. Percy hadn't come home for ages. Okay, so he had come last year at Christmas, but that's only because Rufus Scrimgeour wanted to snoop around and talk to Harry. Stupid ministry.

"You go first," Percy offered, and, frowning, I took a pinch of floo powder and tossed it in the fireplace. I stepped in, and as I shouted, "The Burrow!", I saw Percy's face flickering through the emerald flames. It was set in a determined way, and he seemed to be saying something that I couldn't hear over the roaring flames. But, I think he might have given me those two words, the two words he could never say.

"I'm sorry,"


	4. Chapter 4

"If I don't get something to eat right now, I'll bite off Harry's leg!"

At first, when three hooded figures burst into The Burrow, we were all frightened and whipped out our wands. But when one lifted hers to reveal a head of bushy brown hair and another tried to hug Mum, the atmosphere changed completely.

"Ronnie!!" Mum cried. "Ohh, my Ronniekins is home!" Fred and George snickered as Ron turned as red as his hair, which we could see now because his hood had been knocked off by Mum squeezing the daylights out of him.

Hermione shook the snow off of her cloak and looked at my wand. She smiled. "Sorry about that, we didn't want to be recognized,"

There was still one more hooded figure. Of course, I knew who was behind the cloak. I just didn't think I could face him, not now, not after all that had happened. And, sure enough, when Harry Potter showed his face and those green, green eyes . . . tears ran down my face and I pushed out the door.

There's a little place that I often go to when I'm upset. See, we live near a forest, and I used to go exploring in it. One day, I found a little clearing, where lilies grew and fairies danced. A small, glistening blue stream ran through, and I hid underneath a big willow tree. This is where I felt my magic the most.

I sat down and cried, hard and long. I cried for losing Harry, for betraying him. I cried for leaving Draco, for letting him stay alone at Hogwarts. I cried for Dumbledore, as well. I needed someone's wisdom, and I didn't have anyone's.

When I finally looked up, I was startled to see Draco sitting next to me.

"Wh-What are you . . .?" he put his finger lightly to my lips to silence me, and then replaced his finger with his own lips. We kissed briefly, and then I burst into tears once more. He held me in his arms while I shed tears of loss and love. And eventually he just held me.

I heard a small crunch and looked up. All I saw was his face, hurt, angry, confused . . . Harry's face.

It stumbled out of sight. I heard gasps, screams, and a loud bang. I caught one last glimpse of Harry, his emerald eyes filled with pain, before the world went black.

I awoke in darkness, broken only by a single, eerily glowing wand. I could barely see my own hand. Although this could be because it was tied to the other behind my back.

The light flickered upward for a second, and I would have gasped if it weren't for the fact that a rag tightly covered my mouth. Instead, I glowered into the inhuman face of Lord Voldemort.

"Awake at last, Miss Weasley."

It wasn't a question. His red slits that took place of true eyes were filled with a deep, burning hatred. His thin lips formed into a cruel smile.

"Wormtail! Start a fire! Miss Weasley must be feeling . . . cold,"

If I had been able to speak, you would bet that I would be on my feet, shouting about how he was the cold one, about how much I'd like to set him on fire . . .

But of course I couldn't, and the fire was a help. Now I could see the scenario in front of me.

There was a thin, rat-like, balding man, who must have been Wormtail, cowering at Voldemort's feet. He was weak, obviously. Probably the way Voldemort expected everyone to be like.

Harry was tied to a broken gravestone, his eyes boring into me with . . . I couldn't tell you. Oh, yes, we were in a graveyard somewhere. It was creepy, and you could almost feel the spirits rising around you.

And, seemingly free, Draco Malfoy stood beside me. No ropes bound him, but he did not run, or apparate. Perhaps he knew that if he tried, he would be killed.

"So . . . Potter. We've met many times in these past few years, have we not? Alas, I have yet to finally reach my goal. You know what it is, of course."

Harry didn't seem himself. Instead of passionate and ready to fight for himself and for the ones he loved, he seemed resigned and ready to give in. He nodded. Voldemort paced around the graveyard before speaking once more.

"Do you know the full contents of the prophecy?"

Harry did not look up, but nodded again. Voldemort paused.

"Tell me." He demanded.

And this time Harry shook his head.

Voldemort frowned. I don't know why; he can't have expected this to be so easy. I mean, obviously the prophecy was very important. I had just realized that it must be the one that broke in the Department of Mysteries. But how could Harry know the contents?

The hated wizard pulled out his long, yew wand and pointed it at me. "Tell me," he threatened. "Or you'll never see the girl again."

At last, Harry looked up. Those beautiful eyes were filled with bitterness as he spat, "Kill her, then,"

_No!_ I thought. But Harry's head was back down. My eyes filled with tears. But . . . how could he hate me that much?

Voldemort advanced on me. Holding his wand up high, he hissed, "_Crucio_,"

It was as though I was in a world of fire. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see. I didn't know anything except for this unimaginable pain that overcame me. Until, at last, it was over.

Tom Riddle stood over my shaking body. And I mean it looked like Tom Riddle. The one I remember coming from the diary.

But the image only stayed a second before it flickered out and all I could see was Voldemort.

I gazed past him to look at Harry. His head was down, but I thought he might be crying.

"Malfoy!" Voldemort's cold voice pierced through the air. "Untie that rag around her mouth. Let her speak!"

I watched in horror as Draco, my Draco, bent down to heed his orders. As he finished, our eyes met, and in his I saw weakness and sorrow.

I only wished my hands were also untied so that I could have slapped him. But there were more important things now.

"Harry," I pleaded. "Harry, I love you. I thought we could never be, so I tried to move on, but don't you see? I can't move on, because I love you so much that I would die for you, and—"

But when he looked me in the eyes, I knew enough was said by only that one glance.

"I love you too," he replied simply.

It was all I needed.

"Ah, young love. Such a thing for the last moments of one's life." Voldemort turned on Harry, wand at the ready. "Potter, the prophecy doesn't matter to me now. All that matters is that you die, now. So here you are, pitiful and weak. Here is Harry Potter, the great _Chosen One_. And this is how your life shall end. _Avada Kedavra_!"

But just at that moment, the strangest thing happened. Voldemort's servant, Wormtail, jumped out in front of the wand and crumpled in the dirt.

"He still owed me his life," Harry stared at the dead body in front of him. "But it was no use."

"That is correct," Voldemort sneered. "Because this useless piece of slime didn't love you, did he now? So I'm still going to kill you."

And as he shouted the death curse, Harry found me once more. And I thought I heard him whisper something.

"I love you,"

And so two dead bodies lay limp on the ground. My eyes welled up, and Voldemort laughed. Oh, how he laughed. The iciness of it filled my bones. I shivered.

"Now isn't this just perfect," he taunted. "At last, he is dead. And I am the most powerful wizard of them all! And are you ready for the icing on the cake, blood traitor?" he turned to me. "The one who gave me the whereabouts to Potter . . . why, that was none other than your "other love", Draco Malfoy."

My head spun . . . literally. To face Draco, I mean. And I knew it must be true.

"Ginny," he implored. "I never meant to. He said he'd kill me—"

"And that I shall," Voldemort taunted. "You are of no worth to me now."

"Ginny, I love you—"

"Well I don't love you," I lied. Oh, I hated him, but that doesn't mean I didn't love him, since everyone knows that the opposite of love is indifference, not hatred. "I never loved you. I was just using you to . . . to satisfy me. For all I care, you can burn in hell forever,"

And that was the last thing I ever said to him. I never saw him die, but was taken away by a mystery hand . . .


	5. Epilogue

And now everyone I love is gone. Harry, Draco, Mum, Dad, Fred, George, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Tonks, Professor Lupin . . . I am the only one left of everyone I know.

Percy turned out to be a Death Eater. He tried to go back to the good side, and did not live to tell the tale.

Voldemort and his followers killed everyone else. I read about it in the Daily Prophet. Snape is still missing.

I live in hiding now. I don't know where I am, or who brought me hear. One thing, however, is that sometimes, I think I hear a phoenix singing.

I live pretty well, actually. I am in a cave somewhere, and there is always food. I am fully isolated from the outside world, except for the owl that brings me the news.

There are many books in a large library here. Books of every kind on every subject. Hermione would have loved it.

One book is filled with family trees of the entire wizarding community. It turns out that both Harry and Draco were Polish, which is why I always think of Trzy Serca now. Our three hearts were all broken.

But this life of isolation has no point anymore. I want to end it, to meet the ones I love and be reunited with them. And so I have a knife beside me. My time here has run out, my life gone stale. But I am writing this as one last reminder of the final heart. Someday, I hope, somebody shall find my story. It's not a happy one, but it's all I've got.

Remember that you can truly love more than one person. It is impossible to choose when all that is involved . . .

Is Trzy Serca.


End file.
